Mortality: The Story of Mortanius

Chapter Twenty-Five

They spent several hours examining the main chamber, and the artistic murals on display there, until late in the evening. The following morning, they checked out the other outer structures and found them to be almost identical in design to the first. The bottom level of each building contained altars with strange markings, containing free souls kept there by some unknown magical barrier. Each room also contained several detailed murals. There were ten murals in all, which in sequence told a story.

The central tower, however, did not seem to have an entrance at all. Galhonen suggested simply breaking their way inside, but they already had so much work to do with the other buildings, they chose to leave the central tower alone for now and investigate it at a later date.

They didn’t have supplies to remain on the island for an extended period of time, so after three days of work, they decided to head back to the Pillars as soon as the sun was up. Janarion sent some of the Sarafan down to the boats to make sure they were ready, and they packed up most of the camp before they went to sleep for the night.

When Mortanius awoke, he found that Ellendra was missing. He followed her footsteps in the dew and tracked her to one of the structures. When he reached the bottom chamber, he found her standing entranced, gazing up at the paintings with her hands clutched in front of her.

She turned when she heard him. “Good morning,” she said. “I wanted to take one last look before we leave. When we come back, I’m bringing an artist with me to paint copies of these murals. I wish we could just take these ones back with us.”

“I don’t think they’ll fit in our boats,” Mortanius said jokingly.

Ellendra smiled and turned back to admire the artwork. “Why do you think they chose to document their history like this? Why paint these murals to tell the history of their race, but never write it down anywhere else? None of this is even hinted at in the written records.”

“Maybe it’s like Galhonen said. This is a holy place. This was their temple.”

“Do you think this is all true? Or is this just the version they wanted to tell?”

Mortanius sighed and looked up at the image in front of them. “There’s no way to know. I think we have to believe that it’s mostly the truth, but there’s a lot of details they left out.”

The discovery of these paintings answered many of the questions that had nagged at them for centuries. Why where the Pillars built? Why were the vampires immortal? Why did the vampires insist so strongly that the Pillars had to remain under their control? But in addition to those answers, the murals raised all kinds of new questions.

The painting before them showed a massive battle between the vampires and the unknown race with green skin, which Mortanius began to think of as the Others. They were somehow even more inhuman than the vampires, but Mortanius suspected this was merely artistic license. They had bestial, elongated snouts and long limbs almost like those of an insect, and glowing red eyes that made them look like some kind of supernatural demon. The vampires, by contrast, were portrayed as flawless, angelic figures with glowing weapons and beautiful white wings. Why the vampires and the Others went to war was not known, or at least it was not clearly explained by the murals. But the general story was easy to put together.

The vampires, as depicted in the murals, were a peaceful race. The first mural showed a large gathering of vampires at some kind of celebration, all of them smiling and laughing together. There even seemed to be children in the group, which was another fascinating piece of information. The existence of vampire children had never been confirmed, even though everyone believed they must have existed at some point.

The second mural was interesting as well. It appeared to show the vampires in the middle of some kind of funeral rite. They were seated around a stone arch, underneath which was a vampire lying on a small platform. It certainly looked like a funeral, but it was impossible to know for sure. Had the vampires truly been mortal in the beginning? Combined with the children from the first mural, it appeared as if the vampires had been very much like humans at one time. Having children, growing old, and dying.

The third mural changed everything. It portrayed an encounter between the vampires and the Others, perhaps their very first encounter. They faced each other in a wooded area, about ten of each species on each side. Neither side was armed, and the image seemed to show the meeting was accidental, as if the vampires had merely been exploring the woods and unexpectedly met with their rivals. There was no explanation of where the Others came from. If the mural was to be believed, they simply appeared one day.

The fourth mural showed a small army of Others attacking a vampire community. Again, there was no explanation. Why did they attack? Were they fighting for territory or resources, or were they just violent and warlike?

The fifth mural, which was the one Mortanius and Ellendra were currently looking at, showed a large-scale battle involved hundreds of vampires and Others. The vampires wielded weapons of all kinds and were dressed in glimmering armor. The Others, by contrast, carried crude blades and wore no armor, fighting like primitive savages against the more-advanced vampires.

The sixth mural showed a familiar sight: the Pillars of Nosgoth. They were surrounded by a number of vampires, who were all apparently listening to one vampire in the middle. Their ruler, perhaps, or maybe some kind of vampire prophet? The Pillars looked different. They lacked the colors and symbols of the nine respective Guardians, and they did not apparently reach all the way into the sky. They were simply regular marble pillars. Perhaps the original version, or some kind of magical prototype?

The seventh mural showed the Pillars as Mortanius knew them, complete with the symbols of the Guardians, their tops disappearing into the clouds. However, they were aglow with magical light, with arcs of electrical energy blossoming out in all directions. An army of Others was shown around the Pillars, writhing in agony as the energy enveloped them. This was the last mural to show the Others. Apparently, the Pillars had ended the war and completely defeated them.

The last three murals showed the aftermath of the war. Something happened to the vampires after their victory. The eighth mural showed the vampires at a funeral ceremony similar to the one in the second mural, but in this scene, there was no body on the platform. Vampires crowded the area with expressions of horror and fear, raising their hands to the sky as if praying to some deity. Was this meant to portray the vampires’ knowledge that they were now immortal? Did they also discover at this time that they were unable to bear children? Mortanius could only imagine the consequences of such a horrific realization upon an entire population.

He didn’t have to imagine it, however, because the ninth mural appeared to show exactly that. It showed dozens of vampires in the midst of suicidal madness, impaling themselves on their swords or even burning themselves alive. But some of the vampires were shown with their faces smeared with blood, their expressions full of disgust and misery. Did this mean that the vampires were not only cursed with infertility and immortality, but bloodlust as well? The cosmic power required to impart such a devastating magical spell simply boggled Mortanius’s mind. How could an entire form of life be simultaneously affected by such a curse? And more importantly, was this curse bestowed upon them by the vengeful Others, or was it an unintended result of the Pillars?

The final mural simply showed the Pillars with their original vampire Guardians. One vampire stood before each Pillar, dressed in its respective color. It was the simplest mural, seeming not only to portray a single event in Nosgoth’s history, but to represent all of Nosgoth’s future history as well. Nine Guardians standing watch over the Pillars, forever.

Janos had once told Mortanius that the Pillars were “a gateway, and a lock upon that gateway.” What exactly did that mean? A gateway to where? Did the Others come from a place outside of Nosgoth, some other dimension or plane of existence? Did the Pillars kill them all, or merely send them back where they came from?

Mortanius was already fully aware of alternate planes of existence, since he could look into the spirit world at will. Thesandrine, as Guardian of Dimension, was also knowledgeable about such parallel worlds. He made a mental note to talk to her about it later.

“Come on,” he said to Ellendra. “We’ll have plenty of time to study these when we come back.”

“The others will be so amazed when they hear about this.”

“No doubt. Moebius will probably be angry that he chose not to come with us.”

“You know, speaking of Moebius,” Ellendra said, “I wonder if he might develop the ability to look into the past, or even the future. He’s the Guardian of Time, after all.”

“He told me long ago that sometimes he sees glimpses of things that might happen in the future, but it’s random and he can never be sure if his visions are true. I never thought to ask him if he could possibly view the past, though.”

“We should ask him about it when we get back.”

They left the ruin together and headed back to camp, where everyone else was already awake and getting ready to depart. The wind had picked up for some reason, making the tents and blankets flap and shake as they tried to wrap them up.

Galhonen was kneeling at the edge of the clearing, looking out across the lake. A thick wall of mist obscured the horizon. He saw Mortanius coming and stood up. “Oh, there you are. I thought maybe you and Ellendra went off to have some privacy,” he said with a grin.

Mortanius winced. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“This mist bothers me for some reason,” Galhonen said, changing the subject. He leaned over and plucked out some bits of grass out of the ground. When he opened his hand, they blew out and fluttered over the edge of the cliff. “If it wasn’t for that constant mist, we could see the mainland from here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was magical in nature.”

“Well, no one is more qualified than you to find out.”

“I certainly intend to study it later.”

Once the camp was packed up, Janarion sent two of the Sarafan soldiers down to get the boats ready. They secured a rope tightly around the trunk of the closest tree, intending to leave it there for when they came back to the island. Eventually, they planned to fasten a rope ladder, or even a wooden staircase, to the side of the cliff to make it easier to climb up and down.

Once the Sarafan reached the ledge farther down the cliff and began to descend the other length of rope, Galhonen followed after them. He nimbly swung himself over the edge, eliciting a gasp from Thesandrine. He grinned and began to slide down the rope. When he was about halfway down to the ledge, Mortanius gripped the rope and more carefully lowered himself over the edge. Sliding down the rope seemed like it would be easier than climbing up, but it was still dangerous, especially with the wind whipping at his clothes.

Ellendra peeked over the edge. “Be careful, both of you,” she said quickly, and then stepped back out of sight.

A moment later, Janarion appeared and called down to the Sarafan. “Are the boats ready?”

“We’ll be done in just a few minutes,” one of the men called back.

A sudden gust of wind made Mortanius close his eyes and grip the rope even tighter. His feet slipped away from the rock and he dangled for just a moment as Galhonen shouted in surprise and swung beneath him, blown by the wind. Janarion yelled for his men to grab the rope and hold it steady, and Mortanius opened his eyes just in time to see a heavy chunk of stone crumble free from the face of the cliff, just a few inches below the grass at the top. Whether it was the motion of the rope that knocked it free, or the weight of Janarion standing above, he never knew.

The stone rushed down at him in a cloud of loose dirt and glanced off his arm. He cried out and almost lost his grip, sliding down in a panic, the rope burning his hands. He heard Ellendra scream something.

He looked down and watched in horror as the stone plummeted through the air and struck Galhonen right in the face. It bounced to the side and continued to fall, splattered with blood. Galhonen jerked and simply fell from the rope, his arms and legs going limp. Mortanius tried to cry out but no sound came from his throat. The Sarafan made a valiant attempt to catch Galhonen as he fell, but he tumbled past the ledge and and fell to his death on the rocks forty feet below.

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